Adaptions
by BrookGuitar
Summary: A disabled Harry takes Hogwarts by storm. Sick!Harry
1. Chapter 1

"Do you need any help?"

Harry turned, leaning heavily on his crutch. Two identical ginger boys stood before him, both looking to be two or three years older than him. "Yes, please." Harry replied, giving the older boys a shy smile.

Harry followed the twins as they lifted his trunk, and Hedwig, onto the Hogwarts Express and into the closest compartment. Harry thanked the twins as they left to say 'goodbye' to their parents before sitting down by the window and looking around the compartment, feeling immensely thankful that his wheelchair was waiting for him at Hogwarts. He wouldn't have managed to get the wheelchair onto the train.

Harry stared out the window and watched at the redheaded boys reached their family again - all of whom had vivid ginger hair. A ghost of a smile appeared on Harry's face as he watched the children be fussed over by their mother - his heart warmed to see such love.

The train sounded its horn and the volume of the station rose to a crescendo as farewells were shouted across the station. Soon, all of the students were on the train and the station disappeared from sight. Harry sighed and leaned his head on the window, hoping that he'd make friends in his new school.

A knock came from the compartment door. Harry turned, and saw a ginger boy stood on the other side of the door. Harry gestured for him to enter the compartment.

"Can I join you?" The boy asked. Harry nodded upon recognising the boy as part of the same family as the identical twins were. "I'm Ron, Ron Weasley."

"Harry, Harry Potter." Harry replied, smiling at the kindly boy.

However, Harry felt his fondness for the boy vanish as Ron's eyes popped open in surprise. He'd only found out about his fame just over a month ago but already he'd come to despise it. His fame, along with his disability, really gave people something to stare at.

"You're Harry Potter?" Ron asked in awe. "Do you remember what He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named looks like?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't remember anything really.

"Oh." Ron looked at Harry's crutch. "What's wrong with your leg?"

Harry felt affronted but reminded himself that he was going to school with this boy - Ron should probably be told about his disability. "I have Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome." Harry replied. "In your body you have collagen that is basically the glue that holds you together. Mine is faulty so it means that I'm too flexible and bendy - my joints dislocate a lot and I have a lot of stomach problems and heart problems." Harry had rehearsed this speech ready for Hogwarts - he knew that he'd be explaining it frequently when he first started.

Ron winced. "I dislocated my shoulder last year, I can't imagine that happening all the time. Does it hurt?"

"Yeah, loads. I talked to Hagrid about it and he said to go see Madam Pomfrey after the feast."

* * *

Eventually the train reached Hogwarts. Ron had told Harry all about his family on the train and hadn't even been annoyed when Harry had fallen asleep while he had been talking - he said when he'd hurt his shoulder he slept a lot too.

Harry had grabbed his other crutch before getting off the train. His pain levels had soured during the journey to such an extent that he felt as though he was being stabbed and his legs were twitching because of the pain.

"Are you okay? Do you need me to get help?" Ron asked.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but quickly shook his head, determined to do what all the other first years would be doing.

To Harry's utter dismay, they walked down an uneven path to some boats. By this point his legs were visibly shaking, as were his arms.

"Ev'ryone into a boa'. 'Arry wit' me." Hagrid ordered.

Harry swung himself over to Hagrid and let Hagrid help him into the boat. Soon the flock of boats set off and Hogwarts became visible. Lights shone out of every window, making the castle glow against the dusk sky. Harry gasped at the beauty.

"Profess'r McGonnagal'll be waitin' wit' yer chair."

"Thank you." Harry replied. "I'm in a lot of pain. Does everyone know about my condition?"

"All o' the teachers do." Hagrid responded. "Jus' incase anythin' happened to yer." Hagrid ruffled Harry's hair. "Duck!" Hagrid yelled to all of the first years.

Harry ducked and soon found himself to be in a dock of sorts. The boats lined up against a stone path and they all scrambled out. Hagrid led the group up some steps, after putting Harry in Ron and Hermione's care (he'd briefly met Hermione on the train where she'd promised to research Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome upon realising she knew nothing about it).

Hagrid knocked several times on a heavy open door, which was thrust open by a stern looking woman. The first years were ushered up the rest of the chairs and into a large chamber. By this point Harry was certain his legs were going to give out or he was going to faint. His heart was pounding and he felt dizzy.

"I need my chair, now."

Hermione pushed to the front of the crowd of students and spoke to Professor McGonnagal quietly. Before Harry could fully process what was happening, he was sat in his chair and McGonagall was asking him if he needed to see Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm fine, honestly." Harry reassured.

"Hm. Well I will make sure she sees you afterwards." The professor then left to stand at the front of the crowd of students.

After the ghosts payed the group a visit, and a stern speech from Professor McGonnagal, they were lead into the Great Hall.

Harry had never seen anything so wondrous as the enchanted ceiling, it captivated Harry so much that he almost drove his chair into one of the tables. Harry righted himself and forced himself to look where he was going until the group stopped.

Professor McGonagall strode to the front of the hall and picked an old hat off of the stool at the front of the hall and a scroll. She cleared her throat.

"Hannah Abbot!"

* * *

"Harry Potter!"

Harry gulped and moved his chair forwards using the joystick. When he approached the steps that lead to the stool turned into a ramp. He rolled up the ramp and stopped next to the stool. The hat was placed on his head and slipped over his eyes.

"Harry Potter, eh." The hat crooned, making Harry jump. "I sense bravery, loyalty, cunningness and a thirst for knowledge. My my, where shall I put you?"

"Not Slytherin." Harry whispered, having spoken to Draco Malfoy earlier on the train.

"Not Slytherin, eh? You could be great, you know. Well, if you so wish, better be Gryffindor!"

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers and Harry joined them, noticing that as he rolled up part of the bench disappeared.

Soon the sorting was over and Harry found himself delighted that Ron had also been sorted into Gryffindor.

"Attention!" Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster, called from the front of the hall. "I welcome all of the first years and implore you all to help them find their way around Hogwarts. A few changes to the castle have been made this year - the doorways are wider and the desks can be adjusted. Please be patient. I would like to remind you that the forbidden forest still remains forbidden," Harry noted that Dumbledore's eyes flickered over to the Weasley twins, "and a list of all banned items can be found outside of Mr Filch's office. Now enough chit chat, eat!"

And with that, food appeared on the table. Harry dug in, feeling his stomach grumble at the sight of so much food.

Before Harry knew it, the feast was over and everyone was standing from the tables. Harry, remembering he had to see Madam Pomfrey, waved goodbye to Ron and headed to the teacher's table.

"Ah, Potter, meet Madam Pomfrey." McGonagall smiled. "Is it okay if, as your head of house, I sit in on the meeting?"

Harry nodded and allowed himself to be guided to the hospital wing as he attempted to memorise the route. Soon they arrived at the hospital wing and Harry was shown to a bed. He sat down on top of the covers and leant against the headboard feeling utterly exhausted from the long day.

"Harry, please could you tell us more about your illness?" Madam Pomfrey asked, quill at the ready.

"I have a condition called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome, which causes my joints to dislocate easily and I damage my tendons and ligaments easily. It can affect every part of my body, including my heart, as the collagen in my body is faulty. I also have Postural orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, epilepsy, chronic pain, chronic fatigue, and I don't heal as quickly as the average person." Harry explained. He rubbed at his faced tiredly. "Oh, I also have TMJ disorder from my jaw dislocating too much. I have some leaflets on Postural orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome, Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and a letter from my doctor about my epilepsy if you want to read them."

"Thank you, that'd be very helpful." Madam Pomfrey smiled. "I've heard about EDS and PoTS, but I've never seen them before, but the others we have had cases of in Hogwarts."

Harry rummaged around in his bag and brought out the leaflets and the letter. Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and Harry turned to look at her.

"So how does this affect you every day?"

"I struggle with walking and when the pain and fatigue get too bad I can struggle to answer questions. With the PoTS if I'm standing for too long I can faint and I have to make sure I drink a lot in a day. I also struggle with sleeping due to the pain. I normally just put my own joints back in place if they dislocate."

Madam Pomfrey shivered and winced at that, before turning to Harry with a severe expression on her face. "You, young man, shall not be doing that in Hogwarts. You will come to me for all dislocations. You could trap a nerve doing that!"

Harry knew it was best not to argue, so he nodded his head. That was one rule he'd be breaking within the first day.

"Now, Harry, do you mind if I just do a quick check up on you? I want to make sure the journey wasn't too hard on you." Madam Pomfrey queried, reaching for her wand.

Harry nodded in consent. From his experiences in the hospital he knew it was best to play the good patient. He watched, thoroughly intrigued by the intricate movements Madam Pomfrey's wand was moving in. He looked at Professor McGonagall who smiled and moved closer to the bed.

"If you need anything, you can come to me at all hours." She began as Madam Pomfrey ended the charms. "Is it okay if I inform your housemates in the morning, not of everything, just that you're ill and that if anything happens someone needs to find a professor or Madam Pomfrey urgently."

Harry nodded and quirked a smile. "I'll try to keep that to a minimum, Professor."

"Harry, what's your normal heart rate?" Madam Pomfrey asked, her brow creased in confusion.

"One hundred and ten." Harry replied, dread forming in the pit of his stomach. He'd really wanted to sleep in his own dormitory on his first night of Hogwarts.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to keep you in. Your heart rate is at one hundred and ninety, what's the normal protocol for this?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"To be let out of hospital?" Harry joked tentatively. At both Madam Pomfrey's and McGonagall's stern expression he conceded. "An IV bag of fluids. Do you do those here?"

"Oh we most certainly do." Madam Pomfrey replied before getting up. She soon returned with an IV kit. "Arms, please."

Harry gave her his arms and soon he was hooked up to an IV. He sighed, wishing that he was in his dorm with the rest of his house mates.

"Don't worry too much, everyone just falls straight to sleep on the first night." McGonagall assured him.

Harry simply smiled in return. He was tired and miserable. He leant his head back against the wall, noticing how his eyes were drooping from exhaustion. He let his eyes close and soon he was half asleep, his head lolling out of his own control. He felt arms under his legs and on his back and he pried his eyes open to find Professor McGonagall holding him.

"We're just putting you under the covers." She explained softly.

Harry gave a small smile and let his eyes slip shut once more. He felt himself being placed on the bed and then knew no more.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **PoTS - Postural orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome**

 **EDS - Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry blinked blearily. For the first few moments upon waking he couldn't remember where he was, but then the memories of the day before came back to him in a rush, filling him with excitement. He started to sit up, but a hand on his chest stopped him.

"Hang on there, Harry. I just need to put your shoulder back in place. Ready?" Harry gave a short nod and Madam Pomfrey had soon put his left shoulder back in place.

Harry sat up cautiously, careful not to jostle his left shoulder too much. He often found that the moments after a reduction were more painful than the dislocation itself. He gave Madam Pomfrey a tired smile.

"Breakfast is on its way and I also had your trunk delivered here, just so you can get your school things out and your various braces for joints. One of the letters said that you need to brace a joint after a dislocation. I'll get your trunk delivered back to your dorm room." Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a smile. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Harry replied, "but I'm so excited for school. Do you know what classes I have today?"

"Professor McGonagall dropped your timetable off earlier." Madam Pomfrey answered, gesturing towards Harry's bedside table. "Now if you feel ill at all today, your heartrate goes above one hundred and fifty, or you have a dislocation, come to me."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." Harry replied, before picking up his timetable. He noticed that he had Potions first, Charms second, Defence Against the Dark Arts third and History of Magic fourth. He noticed that at 7:30pm every night he had a scheduled meeting with Madam Pomfrey. Harry got out of bed and packed his bag, before changing into his school clothes.

Soon he had eaten breakfast and was making his way to potions, balancing a map Madam Pomfrey had given him on his knee. He glanced down at the map and took the next left as it indication, for the route had been magically drawn onto the map.

When Harry eventually arrived at the potions classroom, he found the class waiting outside. As Harry rolled up, Ron turned around from his place at the back of the line and spotted him.

"Harry! Where did you go last night?" Ron asked, clearly happy to see Harry.

"Madam Pomfrey had to keep me in the hospital wing overnight." Harry answered, pulling a disgusted face. "Did I miss anything?"

Ron shook his head. "We all fell asleep really early. You did miss seeing the Gryffindor common room, though. It's amazing!"

Harry beamed at Ron. "I can't wait to see it tonight! You have to promise not to spoil anything for me, okay?"

Ron was about to answer but the door to the class was then thrown open by Professor Snape, who summoned the class into the room.

"Potter, the front desk is for you and your partner." Snape spat with disdain, his long-fingered hands brushing his black hair away from his face.

Harry manoeuvred himself into the space and Ron sat next to him. They gave each other nervous glances before their eyes snapped to the front when Snape closed the door, the sound echoing throughout the room.

Harry couldn't wait to start his education at Hogwarts.

* * *

"I don't know what I did! He hated me from the start!" Harry exclaimed as he and Ron made their way to charms, using the map Madam Pomfrey had given Harry.

"Blimey, I've never seen someone so angry." Ron breathed. He shook his head. "I can't believe you told him to ask Hermione for the answer."

Harry shrugged. "I was getting desperate." he replied as they arrived at the charms classroom. The pair walked in and Harry found his place at the front of the classroom, made obvious by the missing chair.

Professor Flitwick walked up to the podium and stood on a pile of books in order to be able to address the class from there. "Good morning, class. Today we will not be using our wands, so please put them away. We wouldn't want there to be an accident."

The class appeared to collectively sigh as they placed their wands back into their bags. Harry realised then that he wasn't the only student eagerly anticipating their first lesson using a magic wand.

It appeared they'd all have to wait a while longer.

* * *

Professor Quirrell was both a curious man and a complete joke. His stutter seemed to have increased, if possible, since Harry had briefly spoken with the man in Diagon Alley, and by the smell emancipating from his turban he only had the one and not several copies of the same material. The Professor also appeared to have interesting ideas about interior design, as he hung garlic cloves around the classroom.

He'd begun the class with a speech that had seemed to last forever. Harry, who's energy had started to deplete, had had trouble keeping his eyes open throughout the speech. He'd then told them to cast 'lumos' without any instruction, telling them that it would come in useful at night. Harry had to agree, he didn't feel like tripping over beds in the dark on the way to the toilet.

"Lumos." Harry muttered, smiling when there was a flicker of light.

"LUMOS!" Seamus roared from behind Harry.

There was a bang and a flash, Harry turned sharply in his seat and bit back a laugh. Seamus had scorched his eyebrows and his fringe off.

"Mr Fin-Finnegan, pl-please go t-to th-the hospital wing. Mad-Madam Pomf-frey c-can regrow your h-hair and ey-eyebrows."

"Sir, I don't know where it is." Seamus protested, his Irish accent becoming more pronounced in his embarrassment.

"I can take him, sir." Harry spoke up, taking pity on his dorm mate.

"Ve-very well, P-P-Potter." Quirrell stuttered.

Harry and Seamus collected their things and left the classroom. Seamus appeared to be nervous around Harry, and Harry only hoped that it wasn't his fame getting in the way.

"Me mam used to read me stories about you when I were little." Seamus began. "In none of them were you disabled."

"There are books? Seriously?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"Oh yeah, they was huge when we was young. In one of them you kill a dragon. It must be weird growing up famous."

"I didn't know about any of it until I got my Hogwarts letter." Harry confessed with a smile. "It came as a bit of a shock, especially as at one point we had hundreds of letters shooting out of the chimney."

Harry paused when they came to a flight of stairs and pressed the buttons on his chair that he needed to press in order for it to float. He started to go up the stairs again, with Seamus following.

"It's like me pa, me mam didn't tell him she were a witch 'till they married. T'were a bit of a shock when he found out."

Harry chuckled lightly. "I bet it was, I mean I was shocked when I found out that I'm a wizard but at least it made a bit of sense to me because of the accidental magic. I mean, I once made my teacher's hair turn blue."

Seamus chortled. "I just blow things up, like today. Me mam had to put fire-proofing charms on everything in the house."

Harry laughed too and they continued talking until they reached the hospital wing. Seamus paused outside, looking nervous.

"Do as she says and you'll be fine." Harry reassured him. He opened the door to the hospital wing and peered inside. "Madam Pomfrey?"

"Oh! Harry, what's wrong? Are you injured?" Madam Pomfrey fretted as she rushed over.

"No, Madam, but Seamus was sent up here by Professor Quirrell because he scorched his hair and eyebrows off."

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue. "No worries, we'll have them regrown in no time."

True to her word, Harry and Seamus were making their way to History of Magic only ten minutes later, armed with Harry's map of Hogwarts. They came to a staircase and Seamus frowned at the map.

"Surely this one would be easier? It would take us to the same level and closer to the History of Magic classroom." Seamus queried, handing Harry the map.

Harry looked at the map for a few seconds before looking back at Seamus. "This staircase moves so I can't use it, but the other one doesn't so I can use that one. A moving staircase doesn't go well with a floating chair."

There were around a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts, and Harry could only use around fifty.

"Oh, okay." Seamus replied.

Eventually they made it to History of Magic and managed to slip in without Binns ever noticing that they were absent. Professor Binns was a ghost and even from the afterlife he lived to make History of Magic lessons boring, it seemed. He droned on and on and Harry found himself starting to drop off to sleep.

"If I fall asleep, wake me up." Harry whispered to Ron, who'd thankfully saved him a seat by simply stacking the chair up against the wall.

"Same here." Ron replied. Harry had to admit that Ron looked just as sleepy as he felt, his eyes were only half open and his head was being propped up by his hand. Harry quirked a smile as he saw Seamus jerk awake, only to drop back off to sleep moments later. Dean, who Seamus was sitting next to, looked to be in a similar position. As he looked around the class, he noticed that Hermione seemed to be the only student making notes.

Harry picked up his own quill and started to make notes, hoping that the note-taking process would help to keep him awake.

"Harry, wake up."

Harry awoke with a jolt, just in time for him to make a note of the History of Magic homework. "Thanks," Harry said as they left the room. "I was fast asleep."

Ron shook his head. "Blimey, Harry. I've never seen someone fall asleep that easily. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Just a bit tired. Do you want to go to the common room and do homework?"

Ron groaned. "On our first day?"

"If we do it now we can spend the weekend exploring the castle." Harry reasoned, being ill meant that you did work whenever you could.

That seemed to appease Ron and the pair made their way to the library to work on their potions homework which Snape had set them. Harry thought it was rather harsh that the Professor hadn't even given them a week to complete the homework, instead making the deadline for two days time.

They'd been working for half an hour when Harry noticed that someone was standing next to him. Harry turned to find Hermione stood with a few pieces of parchment clutched in her hand.

"Hi, Harry. I did some research on Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome and found out that it can make you fatigued, which I guessed was why you fell asleep in History of Magic and a bit in Defence Against the Dark Arts. I copied out my notes for you so you didn't get too behind." Hermione thrust the pieces of parchment towards Harry nervously.

Harry felt touched by her actions, knowing that she was trying to help him to the best of her ability. "Thank you, Hermione. Do you want to sit with us and do homework?"

Hermione jumped at the opportunity while Ron let out a small groan, as he found Hermione to be a 'know it all'. Harry didn't mind her, even if she had an annoying habit of correcting others constantly, as he'd discovered later.

* * *

The end of Harry's first week at Hogwarts came to a close and Harry was exhausted. It was his last lesson before the weekend, which was History of Magic, and Harry had dropped off to sleep almost as soon as the lesson had started. Harry had discovered that Professor Binns' voice had a soothing quality to it, and Harry had to wonder if that was why students had trouble staying awake in his lesson.

"Harry, mate, wake up."

Harry was shoved a little and he jolted upright, discovering that the rest of his classmates were packing their belongings away. Harry packed his school bag and followed the class outside. He yawned and rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked, walking up to Ron and Hermione. She was slowly starting to become their friend, although Ron seemed to be putting up with her rather than enjoying her company.

"Yeah, I'm just tired." Harry yawned, rubbing at his sore eyes.

"Maybe you should just go to bed and not do any work tonight," Hermione suggested.

Harry nodded his head in agreement, and thus the tradition of doing no work on a Friday night was born.

When Harry, Ron and Hermione reached the Gryffindor common room, Harry left them in the common room and went straight to the dorm room. He didn't bother to change, but just allowed himself to collapse into bed before he was taken away into the land of dreams.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall had just left an irate matron to find Harry Potter, after he hadn't turned up for the nightly meeting with Poppy or dinner in the Great Hall. Unlike Poppy, who was practically spitting with rage, Minerva wasn't angry, she was simply just disappointed in the young boy who had sworn to cooperate with the staff. If there wasn't a good explanation for this he'd have to live in the hospital wing, and Minerva was certain that they'd made that clear to the young boy during the week when he'd had a fall and waited until he was in severe pain before seeking medical treatment.

"Caput Draconis," Minerva snapped at the Fat Lady, who'd tried to engage her in conversation. When she entered the Gryffindor common room she found Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, Harry's two friends diligently working on homework.

"Miss Granger, Mr Weasley, do you know where Mr Potter is? He is late for a compulsory meeting with Madam Pomfrey."

Minerva watched as a look of realisation dawned on the two children. Miss Granger was the first to speak.

"Please, Professor, Harry was really tired and he went to bed to rest. He didn't miss the meeting on purpose." Miss Granger said in a rush.

"It's true," Mr Weasley added. "I checked up on him an hour ago and he's fast asleep, he didn't even take his shoes off or get under the covers."

Minerva nodded. "Thank you, both. I will go and make sure he is okay now. Don't worry, he won't get into trouble."

Minerva ascended the stairs until she reached the first year boy's dormitory. She knocked on the door first and, when she received no answer, entered the room. She smiled to herself as she found the youngest Weasley boy's words to be true. Harry was fast asleep on top of the covers, his school robes and shoes still on. Minerva walked up to Harry and placed the back of her hand against his forehead, finding him to be a little cold. Minerva sighed, she'd have to wake Harry as she'd been given potions that Harry needed to take.

"Harry, wake up please." Minerva spoke as she shook his shoulder gently.

Harry's eyes fluttered open and he frowned upon seeing Minerva stood before him. He was struggling to sit up so Minerva helped him, worried at how weak Harry seemed to be.

"Harry, you missed your meeting with Madam Pomfrey and dinner in the Great Hall." Minerva informed him, smiling slightly at the bewildered expression on Harry's face.

"Oh, 'm sorry. I was really tired." Harry admitted, leaning his head against the headboard.

"That's okay, but I need you to take a nutrition potion to make up for the lost meal." Minerva assured Harry, handing him a vial filled with green potion.

Harry took the potion from Minerva and gulped it down, not seeming to notice the taste. After taking the potion, Harry started to drop off to sleep again, his head lolling as the muscles in his neck relaxed. Minerva summarised that Harry wasn't just tired, but was exhausted. His body seemed to have reached a point where it could no longer sustain him in consciousness.

Minerva took Harry's shoes and socks off, frowning as she saw that Harry's ankles appeared to be very swollen. She'd have to mention that to Poppy later. She looked back at Harry, who appeared to be close to toppling out of bed. She shook him awake and handed him the clean pair of pyjamas she'd found on the chair next to his bed.

"Do you need any help?" Harry shook his head so Minerva closed the curtains around his bed to give him more privacy. For a while she heard shuffling and movements, until Harry seemed to become very still for a long period of time. "Harry?"

Minerva peered around the curtain to find that while Harry had gotten changed into his pyjama bottoms, he'd only just managed to get one arm into his pyjama shirt, before he'd fallen asleep again, slouched against the headboard with his chin touching his chest. Minerva tried to shake him awake, but he'd fallen into a deep sleep and only shifted slightly at the movement.

Minerva waved her wand and Harry was, in an instant, wearing the shirt. She moved him slightly, so he wasn't sleeping at an awkward angle, and placed the covers on top of him. Chronic fatigue, Minerva decided in that moment, was truly debilitating.

* * *

Harry woke up at eight in the morning the next day, with only vague memories of his conversation with McGonagall. He'd slept for sixteen hours, and would soon be missing breakfast if he didn't hurry to get dressed. Harry managed to wake Ron up and get dressed within fifteen minutes and soon the pair were hurrying to breakfast, keeping to Harry's speed limit of five miles per hour (as that was the fastest Harry's chair could go).

Once they made it to the Great Hall they started piling food on their plate, rushing to eat it before the food disappeared. Hermione shook her heads at the pair and passed a piece of parchment to Harry.

"Professor McGonagall wanted me to give you this." Hermione explained.

The parchment read: _'Harry,_

 _Please see me after breakfast. We need to have the meeting you missed last night._

 _Madam Pomfrey'_

Harry groaned. "I have to see Madam Pomfrey after breakfast so I won't be able to explore the castle until after that."

"We'll meet you at the common room." Hermione assured him. "Hopefully you won't be there too long."

"Unless she decides to keep me in." Harry pulled a face. "She might figure out that I've been reducing my own joints all week."

"Harry!" Hermione admonished. "That can be really dangerous."

Harry shrugged. "I'm used to it."

Harry quickly finished his breakfast and left to meet Madam Pomfrey. When he arrived she was waiting for him, hands on hips.

"I told you that if you felt ill to come straight to me, young man." Madam Pomfrey scolded. "Minerva told me that not only were you so exhausted that you fell asleep sitting up, but that your ankles are swollen too."

"My ankles are always swollen." Harry explained. "Also, I didn't know that being tired was the same as feeling ill."

Madam Pomfrey huffed. "If you feel that tired again, come to me. I'll be able to give you a potion that helps to induce a quick and rejuvenating nap, rather than a long sleep."

Harry nodded, that did sound better than the sixteen hour sleep he'd had. Harry then let Madam Pomfrey check his pain levels and his heart rate.

"Hm, your heart rate is a little high. You'll just have to watch that. You seem to be in a bit more pain today too, do you need a pain potion?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

She was right, he did have more aches and pains today than he'd had all week. "I'm okay for the moment." Harry replied, knowing he'd be forced to rest if he took one.

"Well, come to me at any point and I'll give you one." Madam Pomfrey offered. She sighed. "Well, you're free to go. Just make sure you drink plenty."

Harry nodded and travelled in his wheelchair at full speed to meet Ron and Hermione, almost crashing into a few students along the way. He reached Ron and Hermione, a broad smile on his face.

"I love going at full speed in this thing." Harry breathed.

"Come on, lets go!" Ron urged, pulling Hermione out of the portrait hole.

The trio went preambling around Hogwarts, soon leaving the hubbub of the students behind as they got deeper into the castle. They'd decided this time to investigate the dungeons to see whether they could find the Slytherin common room.

While they didn't find the Slytherin common room, they did find holding cells and trap doors. As they passed another holding cell, Harry's left wheel rolled over a stone in the ground, which moved downwards upon impact. The floor crumbled beneath them, and it was only Hogwarts own enchantments that stopped them from crashing down onto the floor of the level below. Instead, they fell half way before they were gently lowered. Even so, during the fall Harry's chair had become angled. When he was placed onto the floor his chair tipped over. He hit his head on the flagstone floor and was instantly unconscious.

* * *

"Harry!" Hermione jumped up and rushed over to the boy that had become her friend, followed by Ron. "He's unconscious, Ron. We need to get help."

Ron shook his head. "I don't know where we are. We need to lift him back up. Harry told me that if this ever happens he has things in the back of his chair."

Hermione nodded and reminded herself to breathe. Together Ron and she lifted Harry and his chair back to an upright position, both panting. The chair was heavier than it seemed. In the red bag on the back of his chair, Harry had a clip on harness, a clip on head rest and a neck brace. Together Ron and Hermione worked to get Harry safely upright in his chair, with his body held upright with the harness and his head leaning on the head rest while he was wearing the neck brace.

Ron pointed the tip of his wand to the map. "Point me to the hospital wing."

When the route showed up on the map, Hermione moved to the back of Harry's chair and tried to push it, but it didn't budge. She frowned and looked at the brakes by the wheels, finding that neither of them were on. She tried to push the chair again but it still didn't budge. Then she noticed that the chair had two silver rods at the back of the chair by the motors, both of which were on drive. She flicked them so that they were on free wheel.

"Sorted. Let's go."

The journey back was far less eventful than the journey there. By looking carefully at the flagstones they were able to detect which ones contained a trap and so they managed to avoid them. It seemed to take hours to get back to the main part of the castle, but in reality it only took them half an hour. Lunch had only just started when the exited the dungeons but Ron's stomach was growling loudly.

"How can you be hungry at a time like this?" Hermione asked as they rushed up a staircase that they recognised.

"I'm a growing boy." Ron defended.

They took one right and two lefts before they reached the hospital wing. They barraged through the doors, shouting for Madam Pomfrey.

"What is all of - oh my, what happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked, clearly alarmed as she saw Harry.

"We were walking around the dungeons and his chair rolled over a trap flagstone. The floor crumbled and we started falling but then slowed down. Harry's chair had tilted and he tipped over and hit his head. It's taken us about half an hour to get back." Hermione gasped. "He told us what to do just in case his chair tipped so we did it."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and Hermione watched as she waved her wand in an intricate pattern over Harry. "Stay here with him."

Hermione nodded and watched as Madam Pomfrey rushed off and soon returned with three potions, which she administrated to Harry one after another, massaging his throat so that he'd swallow them.

"He's going to be okay and he should wake up soon. I need you both to leave so I can tend to my patient. You may visit after dinner."

Hermione and Ron left reluctantly, hoping that Harry would quickly recover.

* * *

Harry could hear vague noises around him. The last thing he'd known was that his chair had been tipping over, never a good sign, and then nothing. He thought that he could hear voices, but they were rather garbled and faint, as though he was listening to them on a really old radio. But the more Harry listened to the voices the clearer they became, yet at the same time his head became much more painful as he returned to consciousness.

"They must have really gone deep into the dungeons to find trap flagstones. Those are outside of the cells." a voice murmured.

"My thoughts exactly. The fall gave him a nasty concussion and a fractured skull." another voice answered.

Harry shifted slightly, letting out a small moan as the pain in his head increased. The voices quietened for a few moments, allowing Harry to gather his barings enough to open his eyes. He found himself laying in a bed in the hospital wing, yet again.

"Harry, how are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Harry swallowed thickly. "My head hurts." he mumbled.

"It will do, you broke your skull and gave yourself a nice concussion." Madam Pomfrey replied. "I can't give you anymore pain potions but I can give you a dreamless sleep potion if you want one."

"Yes please." Harry murmured.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to have one at hand as she simply filled a goblet and helped him to sit up slightly. He drank the contents of the goblet and blinked drowsily, watching as objects morphed into various shapes before he was plunged into slumber.

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Who knew the trio would be getting into trouble so soon?**

 **Reduced, reduction, reducing - putting a dislocated joint back into place.**


	3. Chapter 3

The second week of Hogwarts went a lot more smoothly for Harry. He soon recovered from his concussion, thanks to Madam Pomfrey's care, and Professor Flitwick placed a strong anti-tipping charm on his chair after it tipped over again on the way to the greenhouses (thankfully Harry had managed to avoid another concussion). Although, Harry had been told by Professor Flitwick that the charm only lessened the likelihood of his chair tipping, there was still a possibility of it doing so.

It was Wednesday fourth period, and the whole class were fidgeting and glancing at the clock at the front of the classroom. Flying lessons had been announced at the end of their first week and today Gryffindor had their first. While Neville and Hermione looked petrified at the thought of flying, the rest of the students were eagerly anticipating their first flight. Harry's excitement had only been hampered by the knowledge that they were sharing their lesson with Slytherin. It had taken Draco Malfoy a week to start tormenting Harry, but once the taunting had started it was relentless. Harry only hoped that Malfoy made a fool of himself in the flying lesson, as he'd been loudly boasting about what a great flyer he was during breakfast that day.

The bell sounded and the class scrambled to their feet, hastily shoving their belongings into their bags before rushing out of the room towards the Quidditch pitch.

When they reached the Quidditch pitch, Madam Hooch was awaiting them. She was stood in front of two lines of battered broomsticks. Harry guessed that the school must have had the brooms for at least ten years.

"Everyone stand in front of a broomstick, quickly!"

The class hurried to obey the command. Harry found himself by a broomstick in between Ron and Neville. He reversed his chair back slightly and stood, shuffling forward so that he was stood beside his broomstick.

"Stick your right hand over your broom and say 'up'. Remember, you have to say it like you mean it." Madam Hooch ordered, her yellow eyes surveying the class.

"Up!" The class shouted.

Harry almost lost his balance as his broom shot directly into his hand, he looked around the class the find that he and Malfoy were the only ones to have successfully ordered their broom to come up to their hands. Ron's was slowly quivering towards his hand while Neville's hadn't moved an inch.

Eventually Madam Hooch told those who hadn't managed the activity successfully to pick up their broomsticks and place them between their legs. The class followed her order and she went around correcting the grip each student had on the broom. To Harry's satisfaction, Malfoy was told by Madam Hooch that he'd been holding his broom wrong his entire life.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, I want you to kick off of the ground and hover for a few seconds, before coming back down by leaning forward slightly." Madam Hooch instructed. "Now, three, two, on-"

Neville, in his nervousness, kicked off too early and started to rise off of the ground, completely out of control. Harry and the rest of the class watch in helplessness, barring Malfoy and his gang, as Neville rose higher and higher.

"Mr Longbottom, come back down! Lean forwards slightly." Madam Hooch tried to instruct, her voice laced with panic.

Instead, the broom gave a sudden jerk and Neville fell twenty feet, a crack sounding as he hit the ground. Harry let out a gasp, rooted to the spot as Madam Hooch hurried over to Neville.

"A broken wrist. I'll take you to the hospital wing." Madam Hooch soothed as she helped Neville to stand. She turned to the rest of the class. "None of you even think about touching those brooms while I'm gone. If you do, you'll be out of the school before you can even say 'Quidditch'. Do you understand?"

The class nodded and Madam Hooch left with a sniffling Neville. Harry hoped that his dorm mate would soon be better. He sat back down in his wheelchair as he felt his legs starting to get tired.

Malfoy snorted. "Did you see that? You can hardly call him a pureblood."

The other Slytherins snickered and jeered, some imitating Neville.

"Shut up, Malfoy." snapped Pavarti, her fists clenching in anger.

"Shut up, Malfoy." Malfoy mimicked, his voice high-pitched.

"Sticking up for Longbottom? I never knew you liked cry babies." Pansy Parkinson snickered. Harry mused that he hadn't seen Pansy away from Malfoy in the week and a half he'd been at Hogwarts. Harry couldn't help but feel his dislike for her increase.

"Ooh, look, it's Longbottom's rememberall." Malfoy darted forward and picked the glistening ball off of the grass.

Neville's grandmother had sent him the rememberall and Neville had received it that morning at breakfast. The ball had filled with red smoke, signifying that Neville had forgotten something, but the poor boy hadn't been able to remember what he'd forgotten. Harry realised that Neville must have been carrying the rememberall around with him all day in an attempt to remember what he'd forgotten.

Harry stood from his wheelchair. "Give it back, Malfoy."

Malfoy smirked. "I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. Up a tree? On the roof?"

"Give it here." Harry snapped, holding out his hand. He could feel his anger rising and his magic churning. Instead, Malfoy jumped on his broom and flew off with the rememberall. Harry noted in despair that Malfoy was a decent flyer.

In a rash move, Harry grabbed his broom and went to get on it.

"Harry!" Hermione admonished. "You heard what Madam Hooch said, you'll get expelled!"

"I can't just let Malfoy get away with this." Harry replied, before he kicked off of the ground. He soared upwards and almost instinctively he knew how to control the broom. He soared towards Malfoy, relishing in the feeling of absolute freedom and weightlessness he had gained on the broomstick. He came to stop in front of Malfoy, who looked rather stunned.

"Give me the rememberall." Harry almost growled at Malfoy.

Malfoy merely grinned in return. "Catch." he sung, throwing the rememberall high up in the air before it started to fall again.

Harry turned sharply and started to descend in a steep dive, wind rushing past him. Everything turned into a blur and the screams of the class below him dulled as he became solely focused on the rememberall, which was rapidly falling towards the ground. He urged his broom to go faster, and soon he was within an arms reach of the rememberall. He reached out and grabbed the glinting ball, just in time for him to pull out of the dive three feet from the ground. He slipped and toppled off the broom, landing on his back with the rememberall safely in his fist. Harry laughed.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry's heart jolted and he raised himself on his elbows in time to see Professor McGonagall running towards him.

"You foolish child! Are you hurt?" she asked as she reached him. Harry shook his head. "Well, then, come with me."

"But Professor, Malfoy-"

"No buts, Miss Granger. Harry, can you walk to your wheelchair?"

Harry nodded and soon he was following Professor McGonagall through the castle. He swallowed a lump in his throat, this was going to be his last day at Hogwarts. He'd be sent back to the Dursleys, back to a life where he was reluctantly given help and reminded what a burden he was to the family.

To Harry's surprise, they stopped outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. McGonagall entered, peering inside the room.

"Professor Quirrell, please may I borrow Wood?"

Harry's heart jolted. Did they give beatings at Hogwarts as punishments? He waited with baited breath, only to find out that Wood was another, much older, student. McGonagall lead them both to a classroom, Harry and Wood shot each other confused looks.

"Harry, this is Oliver Wood. Wood, if the headmaster allows it, I have found you a Seeker." McGonagall grinned.

"A what?" Harry asked.

"A seeker, it's a position in Quidditch." Wood explained, an overjoyed expression appearing on his face. "Are you sure, Professor?"

"He's a natural. He caught this thing after a fifty foot five," McGonagall pointed to the rememberall in Harry's hand. "Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Oliver Wood looked as though all of his dreams had come true in that moment. He turned to Harry. "Ever played a game of Quidditch?"

"No, I don't even know what a seeker is." Harry replied, looking between McGonagall and Oliver.

"I'll ask Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey, hopefully they'll agree. Heavens knows we could do with a good Seeker this year." McGonagall replied, giving Harry a bright smile.

"You can't both come too!" Ron groaned.

Harry and Ron had both been challenged to a duel by Malfoy. Ron was Harry's second, who apparently took over if Harry died or was too injured to continue. Harry didn't plan on getting injured, it would be hard to explain to Madam Pomfrey when he was supposed to be in his dormitory. Neville, who had fallen asleep outside the portrait hole after forgetting the password, and Hermione, who had followed them out, were both forced to tag along as the Fat Lady had disappeared.

"I'm not staying, what if Filch finds us?" Hermione asked snappishly. She'd been in a foul mood after finding out about the duel.

"Fine, just be quiet." Harry whispered as he set off towards the trophy room.

The flittered across corridors, moving as quietly as possible, until they reached the trophy room. Crabbe and Malfoy hadn't arrived yet. The trophies glinted in the moonlight, standing tall, yet the light was too dim to read any of the engravings on the trophies, Harry realised as he peered at one.

"Do you think they've chickened out?"

There was a snuffling and a shuffling, before they heard a crooning voice.

"They have to be here somewhere, my sweet, sniff around. We'll find them."

"Filch." Hermione mouthed. "Run!"

Hermione, Ron and Neville ran while Harry rolled at full speed behind them. They ran and only stopped running when they had a mishap with Peeves, causing them to have to run again. Finally they found a room and slammed the door shut. They heard a shuffling and murmurings behind the door, but they faded away. Harry breathed a sigh of relief and turned around, freezing at the sight before him.

A giant dog with three heads had started to wake up, it's nose twitching as it sniffed the air. Harry forced himself to calm down enough to think rationally. "Ron, Hermione, Neville, open the door slowly and leave." he whispered.

"Why?" Ron asked, and that was enough to fully wake the dog.

The four of them let out petrified screams and they flung the door open, rushing out and forcing it closed behind them, just missing the huge jaws of the beast. They continued to run, or in Harry's case roll, the adrenaline pushing them on until they'd rushed into the Gryffindor dormitory and slumped down onto the sofas.

"What was that?" Harry breathed, his heart was hammering inside of his chest.

"That doesn't matter, the question is: what is it guarding?"

"What the bloody hell are you on about?" Ron asked.

"It was standing on a trap door, didn't you see?" Hermione asked.

"I wasn't looking at its feet." Neville murmured.

Hermione huffed and stood up. "Well I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could have been killed - or worse, expelled. Now, I'm going to bed." She stormed up the stairs to the girls dormitory.

Ron shook his head. "You'd think we forced her to come along."

Harry nodded. "I'm going to bed, you coming?" he asked Neville and Ron.

The three of the ascended the stairs to the Gryffindor dormitory, quietly got changed and into bed. While Harry soon heard the snores of Neville and Ron, he couldn't go to sleep quite yet. What was that three-headed dog guarding, and did it have anything to do with the dusty, old package that Hagrid had collected from Gringotts on their visit there?

A week later it had been decided collectively by Professor Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey that Harry would be allowed to play Quidditch, as long as he wore a helmet and his braces. Despite the conditions, Harry was thrilled. He'd had his first training session with Wood, which had been enthralling. He loved the sensation of swooping through the air on his Nimbus 2000, which was the broomstick that McGonagall had bought him.

Despite the thrill of Quidditch and his ever-increasing friendship with Ron and Hermione, although Ron and Hermione still weren't talking after the duel, Harry found himself worrying ever so slightly. He seemed to be getting withdrawal symptoms from his epilepsy medication, but Harry couldn't understand why as he was still taking the tablets at the right time and dosage. He'd decided not to tell Madam Pomfrey about it for now, as he was sure that his mind was just playing trick on him.

Friday started with Harry waking up late, too late for him to get breakfast that morning. And so, he only just made it to Potions in time.

Harry manoeuvred himself into his seat in the potions classroom, altering the height of the desk as he did so. His fatigue had been worsening considerably recently and he'd made the decision, while changing as fast as he could into his school uniform, to tell Madam Pomfrey about it that evening along with his withdrawal symptoms.

Hermione sat down next to him and gave him a worried look. "Why weren't you at breakfast?" She asked, while taking out her potions book.

"I woke up late - are you and Ron seriously still not speaking?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, but that doesn't matter. You need to eat, Harry."

"Hermione, this will not be the first, or last, meal I skip. I'm feeling a bit sick today anyway." He was telling the truth. He'd woken up nauseous, clammy, and definitely not in the mood for breakfast.

Hermione looked like she was going to make a retort, but Harry was saved by Snape striding into the room and slamming the door shut behind him.

"You are to brew a forgetfulness potion. Longbottom, please try to at least make it half way through the lesson before causing a disaster. " Snape drawled. He flicked his wand at the board and instructions appeared. "Begin."

Hermione fetched them their ingredients while Harry put the arm rests on his wheelchair up, so if anything went wrong he'd be able to get out of the way easily. Harry and Hermione started to prepare the ingredients when suddenly the putrid smell of burning started to fill the room. Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Hermione, is something burning?" Harry asked, peering inside the cauldron.

"No, why?" she asked, looking bewildered.

"I swear I can smell burning." Harry whispered, noticing that Snape's attention had been brought to the pair.

Harry was watching in trepidation as Snape started to get out of his seat, before his world turned black.

Severus had had enough of Potter and Granger talking to each other about off-topic subjects. He prided himself in not showing favoritism to Dumbledore's 'Golden Boy' and, in extension, his friends. Severus stood purposefully slowly, when he knew that Potter was looking at him, and started to walk a few steps towards Potter when he saw something truly alarming.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Potter's body went rigid, his hands and fingers curling in, before he started violently convulsing. Severus hurried over to the boy, but by the time he reached the convulsing first year he'd fallen out of his wheelchair with a bang. The class, who thankfully hadn't had the chance to put any ingredients into their cauldrons, all paused to watch.

Potter's head was painfully colliding with the ground. Remembering the seizure first aid talk the staff had had, Severus hurriedly took his robe off. He turned Potter onto his side and placed the robe under his head, concentrating hard on keeping Potter on his side.

"Class dismissed! Mr Thomas, run, and I mean run, and get Madam Pomfrey. Now! Weasley, Granger, stay behind." When none of the students, other than Mr Thomas moved, Severus continued. "Get out, now!"

The class scampered, apart from Weasley and Granger who rushed to Potters side. If Severus hadn't been so worried himself he would have scoffed. "Were there any warning signs?"

"Harry said he could smell burning, but no one had put any ingredients in their cauldron." Granger answered, her voice shaking with suppressed tears. "It's been two minutes."

Severus refrained from remarking that he'd forgotten to time the seizure as they were instructed to do during the meeting, but reminded himself to give ten points to Gryffindor when he was alone. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and started cleaning the saliva that was being brought up away, so that Potter could breathe easier.

Madam Pomfrey arrived a minute later, and judging by the soot on her she'd used a nearby fireplace. She rushed up to Harry, who was still violently convulsing. "How long?"

"Almost four minutes." Hermione replied. "He said he could smell burning beforehand."

Madam Pomfrey clucked her tongue. "We're going to have to wait for the seizure to pass, it's simply too violent for me to do anything but give him oxygen for the moment." Madam Pomfrey placed an oxygen mask over Harry's face and loosened his tie and shirt.

Several minutes passed and the convulsions slowed. His face stopped twitching and his hands came to rest at his sides. Madam Pomfrey leaned over him and tapped his face lightly. "Harry? Harry can you hear me?"

No response was made. Madam Pomfrey conjured a stretcher and lifted Harry onto it. She peered at a few of his joints in concern. "Severus, please follow me to the hospital wing. I need a strengthening potion, an anti-seizure potion and a pain potion. Weasley, Granger, I need you to come with me. If Harry starts to have another seizure or starts to wake up tell me at once."

With that the group left, and Severus quickly gathered the potions he needed before setting off towards the hospital wing.

Harry groggily opened his eyes. He felt lethargic and foggy, as though his mind was filled with thick fog and he couldn't quite think properly.

"Madam Pomfrey, Harry's awake!" A voice called next to him.

There was a flurry of movement before a light was being shone into his eyes. Harry blinked and tried to sit up, but he found his movements hindered by several hands on his shoulders and chest.

"No, stay still for now, Harry. Do you know what year it is?"

The question didn't make sense to Harry. He frowned.

"That's okay. Harry, do you know what your name is?"

Again, Harry found that he couldn't answer. The fog was impending him, masking his thoughts and ideas until they became forgotten, non-existent.

"He's just confused, it happens sometimes after seizures. It should wear off in a little bit."

They were right. Ten minutes passed and Harry suddenly found himself in the hospital wing. He looked to his left, finding both Hermione and Ron sat talking in hushed murmurs.

"What happened?" Harry asked, his voice weak.

"You had a seizure." Madam Pomfrey replied, stepping up to Harry's bed. "A bad one at that. A few joints dislocated too but those are back in place now. Rest, and we'll talk about it more later."

Harry gratefully closed his eyes and sunk into sleep's welcoming embrace.

"Have you ever smelled burning before a seizure before?"

Harry shook his head. "No, normally I don't get a warning."

Madam Pomfrey nodded. "If you smell burning again, send someone to get me or if you're in here call me."

Harry nodded and watched as Madam Pomfrey got up out of her seat and walked back towards her office, muttering about paperwork.

Harry sighed and sat back. He'd woken up an hour ago, just in time for tea which had been first on Madam Pomfrey's agenda. Then they'd started to talk about any health concerns Harry had, which so far were the fatigue and his most recent seizure.

Harry curled up into a ball on his side, wincing as his left shoulder was jarred. He guessed that he'd dislocated that joint while seizing.

Poppy wandered into the room a while later, finding Harry gazing around the room in a half asleep stupor. She smiled to herself and quietly walked over to Harry's bedside, filling the now empty goblet with more water.

"Burning." Harry slurred.

Poppy felt her heart skip a beat as Harry began to convulse. She rolled him over onto his side, so he was facing her, and waited the seizure out. There was nothing she could do for Harry while he was having a seizure, she just had to let it run it's course.

The door to the hospital wing flew open with a bang. Madam Pomfrey whipped her head up, finding three shocked fifth year Gryffindors, one of which was being supported by his two classmates as he was standing only on his left leg.

"Sit on a bed and wait." Madam Pomfrey snapped, clucking her tongue sympathetically as Harry started to throw up.

"But Madam I-"

"Mr Keele, I cannot leave my patient. While your foot must be very painful, my patient could die if I leave them. Now please, sit on that bed and wait." Poppy turned back to Harry, feeling frustrated and frightened. She'd never had a patient with such complex issues as Harry had and she found it incredibly daunting. One wrong move and Harry could become seriously ill. Poppy mused that it must be even more daunting to be Harry.

The convulsions came to a stop and Harry was unconscious. Poppy rolled Harry back onto his back and conjured a flannel. She wiped the vomit off of his face and scooped the young boy into her arms, moving him to the next bed along; thankful that his bedclothes were not soiled. She pointed her wand at the bed and banished the sheets to the laundry.

She moved swiftly over to Mr Keele and ran her wand over his ankle. He had a mild break so she gave him a pain potion and muttered "episky". She then wrapped the ankle in a bandage to give it some extra support. As she finished she heard a low groan from behind her. She turned to find that Harry was starting to wake up.

"Stay here, Mr Keele. You two can leave." She said, pointing to the two students that had accompanied the boy.

They left, seeming to realise that Poppy was in no mood for any misbehavior. Poppy hurried back to Harry's side, watching as his expression morphed from being relaxed to being pained.

"Harry, are you awake?"

The only response she got was a pained groan. She hurried to the medicine cabinet and grabbed a pain potion and returned to Harry. She lifted his head up and held the vial to his lips. "It's a pain potion."

Harry gulped the contents of the vial down, before relaxing and falling back into slumber. Poppy decided that she'd have to read the letters from Harry's doctors again to see if she missed anything.

Harry groggily opened his eyes. He felt exhausted but couldn't pinpoint why. He vaguely remembered being in potions and then being in the hospital wing, but he couldn't figure out why he was in the hospital wing, or how long he'd been in there.

"Madam Pomfrey?" He called, his voice cracking slightly.

"Harry, how are you feeling?" Madam Pomfrey asked, she was by his side in a flash fussing over him.

"Groggy. What happened?" Harry shifted so that he was able to look at the matron without straining his eyes, but without his glasses he could only see a blurry outline of her.

"You had two big seizures yesterday." Madam Pomfrey replied, concern lacing her voice.

"Oh." Harry was gutted. He'd been seizure free for so long. "Do you have my muggle medicine?"

"Your what?" Now Madam Pomfrey sounded alarmed. "Are you on muggle medicine for your seizures?"

"Yes, but I don't think it's been working."

"Why did you tell me this before? No wonder you had seizures! Harry, when you start administering potions they completely counteract muggle medicine, no matter what it is. I'm going to give you an anti-seizure potion that you need to take twice a day." Madam Pomfrey explained.

Harry watched as Madam Pomfrey left, returning moments later with a vial containing a lime green potion. Harry took the vial, trying to ignore the toxic colour and quickly gulped down the potion, wincing at the taste.

"I need to take this twice a day?" Harry gasped.

"Yes, I know it doesn't taste good but you'll get used to it. Do you have any questions?"

Harry nodded. "What time is it? How long have I been in here? When will I be released?"

"It's an hour before lunch and you've been in here for just over a day. I want you to stay in here at least until tomorrow morning to make sure that the potion is working. Is there anything you'd like to be brought up here for you?"

"Yes please," Harry answered. "I'd like my homework to be brought up here, if that's okay?"

"That's fine. I'll be in my office if you need anything." Madam Pomfrey smiled softly at Harry before walking off.

 **A/N I'm so sorry this took so long to get out! I've been struggling with school work, appointments, migraines, severe pain and my own seizures recently. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

Harry could scarcely believe that he'd managed to not pay one visit to the hospital wing for two weeks, aside from his daily meetings with Madam Pomfrey. He also couldn't believe that Halloween was on the next day, or today, Harry mused as he looked at his watch. The first years had been told that there would be a big feast containing sweets of all varieties and some secret entertainment. Harry had found himself getting excited about the feast, despite Halloween marking the 10th anniversary of his parent's deaths.

Harry laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling with tears in his eyes. His parents had died protecting him ten years ago. He could remember a flash of green light from that night and that was all. That flash of green light had haunted his dreams, awakening him at two in the morning with a pounding heart.

Harry let out a small groan and sat up, concluding that he wouldn't be getting much sleep that night. He grabbed his schoolbag and made his way down to the common room where he situated himself in the softest armchair next to the fire. He grabbed some parchment, a quill and his History of Magic textbook, deciding to at least do some work if he couldn't get to sleep.

However, soon the heat of the dwindling fire had started to weigh upon him, Harry found that his eyelids were starting to droop. He leaned back in the armchair, and closed his eyes for a second to give him some time to think about the essay he was writing.

"Harry, get up. We're going to be late for class!"

Harry sat upright and peered at Ron blearily. "What? Oh, right, just let me get dressed." Harry murmured, standing from the armchair.

Moments later he was rolling along next to Ron towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron and Hermione were in the midst of an argument which left Harry rolling his eyes and shaking his head every few seconds. While Harry had become friends with Hermione, Ron was a little more hostile with her, resulting in numerous arguments. Harry let his thoughts wander to the feast that would be happening later that day. Despite it being the anniversary of his parents' death, he found himself anticipating the feast now that the scent of cooking pumpkins was wafting through the castle.

He was pulled out of his musings by a sob. Hermione ran off down the corridor, her head bowed as she tried to hide her tears.

"Do you think we should..."

"No, I think she needs to be alone." Harry cut off. He looked at Ron in annoyance. "Can't you two at least try to get along?"

Ron looked suitably sheepish and the pair continued their way to breakfast, Harry decided to forgive Ron for his argument with Hermione, sure that she'd soon e okay.

Hermione, however, hadn't turned up to any of her classes, which had Harry worried. He'd heard from Parvati and Lavender, Hermione's roommates, that she'd been crying in the third floor girl's toilets all day. The thought made the spoonful of treacle pudding he was munching on taste bitter in his mouth and he swallowed it thickly, peering towards the entrance of the great hall almost as though he was expecting Hermione to come through it and join hem.

The doors to the great hall flew open with a bang, making Harry jump. He whipped around to see Professor Quirrel run into the Great Hall, his face white and his hands trembling.

"Troll! Troll in the dungeon!" He bellowed before fainting.

Chaos ensued. Students screamed and stood from their chairs, all rushing towards the exits. Harry sat still, fervently hoping that he wouldn't get trampled by the mass of panicking students.

"Silence! Prefects, take your students to your common rooms! Slytherin house make your way into the antichamber just off of this room. Teachers, follow me." Dumbledore ordered, power radiating off of him.

Harry left the great hall with the rest of his house. And was about to start going up a flight of stairs when he suddenly remembered that Hermione was in the girls bathroom all alone, not knowing that a troll was on the loose. He grabbed Ron by the arm and dragged him away.

"Hermione, we have to tell her!"

Ron's eyes widened and he gave a quick nod before rushing off with Harry. They ducked between streams of students, trying to blend in as much as a Weasley and a wheelchair user can. Finally they managed to escape and rushed up to the third floor.

The first sign that the troll wasn't in the dungeon was the pungent smell. Harry couldn't place what it smelled like, although he guessed it was somewhere between rotten eggs and cat urine.

And then they saw it.

It was a grey-green colour and was more than double the height of Harry. The troll plodded along, dragging a huge club along behind him. He watched in terror as the troll entered the girls toilets and a scream was heard.

Harry and Ron rushed into the toilet, just in time to see the troll smash through several toilet stalls.

"Hermione!" Harry yelled, comforted slightly when he heard her scream. "Oi!"

The troll turned just as Harry threw a plank of wood at it. The troll started towards him and in that moment Harry realised how stupid he'd been. He wouldn't survive being beaten up by a troll.

"Oi! Peabrain!" The troll turned again and started towards Ron, smashing its club through several sinks.

Then Harry did something truly idiotic. He crouched on his wheelchair and propelled it forward before standing and jumping onto the trolls back, accidentally thrusting his wand into the troll's nose.

The troll roared in pain and tried to shake Harry off of its back. Harry screamed as he felt his shoulders and wrists dislocate and before he knew what was happening the troll had grabbed Harry by his leg and he was now hanging upside down.

He watched as the troll started to swing the club towards him and then all of a sudden the club was gone. Harry looked up and saw the club hovering over the trolls head for a split second before it came thudding down.

The troll let go of Harry and he hit the floor with a thud, pain coursed through Harry's body as he felt more joints dislocate. Hands hooked under his shoulders and dragged him out of the path of the falling troll. The troll fell with a loud thud, missing Harry by a mere inch. Harry lay panting, his face scrunched up in agony as pain shot through his body. There was another bang as the bathroom door was flung open and several pairs of footsteps.

"Oh my... Potter are you all right?"

McGonagall and Dumbledore rushed towards Harry. Harry watched as they dropped down beside him and started to try to asses his injuries.

"What hurts?" McGonagall asked, her eyebrows were creased with worry and Harry noticed that her hands shook slightly.

"Everything." Harry gasped. "But I'm okay."

"Mr Weasley, get Madam Pomfrey." Dumbledore ordered. Harry watched as Ron nodded quickly and ran off. "Now Harry, where does it hurt the most?"

Harry frowned and concentrated on his own body. Everything hurt and Harry couldn't decide what hurt the most. "I don't know. I'm fine, I just have some dislocations."

"I-I'm so-sorry."

Harry turned his head and saw that Hermione was stood to the side, watching Harry with wide and tear-filled eyes.

"Not your fault." Harry gasped, flinching as McGonagall peered at his wrist.

"We will all talk about this later." Dumbledore instructed sternly, looking between Harry and Hermione. "For now, Mr Potter needs healing and rest."

The agony that Harry felt was to such an extent that he struggled to stay conscious. McGonagall's and Dumbledore's faces faded in and out of focus as Harry blinked sluggishly. Something nudged his leg and he let out a strangled shout. His eyes rolled back and he slumped into unconsciousness.

He came to with the sound of voices echoing around him. He opened his eyes and found that he was still on the bathroom floor. Madam Pomfrey was leaning over him and running her wand over his body. The pain was still overwhelming and Harry felt as though if he spoke the pain would only increase.

Madam Pomfrey looked up at McGonagall and Dumbledore. "Twelve dislocated joints, two of which fractured. He's also tachyardic and his blood pressure is too low."

"Is there anything we can do to help, Poppy?" Harry heard Professor McGonagall ask.

"Yes, if you go into my office there is a drawer labeled 'fluids' and another labeled 'cannula'. Please gather several from the cannula drawer and one from the fluids drawer."

McGonagall hurried off and Madam Pomfrey turned back towards Harry. She smiled upon seeing that he was awake.

"How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Pain." Harry gasped out, trying to move his lips as little as possible.

"I know, we're going to get a pain potion in you soon. I don't want to give you one now as they can increase your heart rate and yours is too high as it is." Madam Pomfrey explained. "I'll also sedate you while I relocate your joints as that is going to be too painful."

Harry had never felt so thankful for Madam Pomfrey than in that moment. Harry felt dizzy and weak and so he found himself drifting in and out of consciousness. What felt like only minutes, but was possibly longer, McGonagall returned.

"Okay, Harry, there are going to be a few sharp scratches." Madam Pomfrey warned, grabbing the equipment from Professor McGonagall.

It was testament to how much pain Harry was in that he didn't feel Madam Pomfrey prodding and poking him in an attempt to cannulate him. Soon he was hooked up to a bag of fluids and Madam Pomfrey seemed to be preparing to move him.

"Harry, this is a potion that will make you sleep." Madam Pomfrey said, holding the vial up to Harry's mouth. "Drink up."

Harry gulped the potion down as quickly as possible. Within moments he felt drowsy. He blinked sluggishly, his eyes gradually closing.

Harry was abruptly awake.

"Are you in any pain, Harry?"

He turned his head and gazed sleepily at Madam Pomfrey who was hovering next to his bed. "Yes," Harry replied, his voice hoarse. Several joints ached harshly and he felt shooting pains down his arms and legs - clearly his nerves had been irritated from the dislocation and relocation. He glanced around the room - it was dark and dingy and there were several candles lit around Harry's bed, suggesting that it was the middle of the night.

Madam Pomfrey seemed to have been prepared for this as she picked up a vial from Harry's bedside table and held it to his mouth. He gulped it down, ignoring the bitter taste. Madam Pomfrey placed the vial back onto the bedside table before picking Harry's glasses up and placing them on his face. Her lips were thin and her face was pale and tight - Harry knew he was in trouble.

"Harry, what made you think you could take on a troll all by yourself?" Madam Pomfrey asked sharply, taking the seat next to Harry's bed.

"We didn't! We were going to go back but Hermione was in the toilets and didn't know about the troll so-"

"Then you tell a teacher!"

Harry opened his mouth to defend himself but faltered - Ron and he really should have told a teacher.

"I-I... We didn't think about that." Harry faltered, fiddling with the bed sheets.

"Clearly!" Madam Pomfrey replied, crisply. "If that troll had fallen on top of you or hit you with its club I'm not sure whether you'd have survived."

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry." He wanted the lecture to be over as soon as possible as not only was he feeling beyond guilty for making Madam Pomfrey worry, but he was exhausted. His eyelids felt like they were made from lead and he had to concentrate on keeping them open.

"Apology accepted. Now you look as though you could do with a nice long rest." She blew the candles from around Harry's bed out. "Good night."

Harry let the lure of sleep sweep him away.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry awoke slowly, his brain taking a while to get going. He knew he was in bed, a nice, warm bed, and he knew that he'd done something stupid. He could feel that in the sharp pains that traveled down is spine and into his arms and legs. It felt as though pulses of electricity were being forced down his nerves, scorching them as they traveled. He let out a groan as he shifted slightly, his joints protesting at the movement.

"Harry, do you need a pain potion?"

"Yes." Harry croaked, opening his eyes and squinting, trying to make out the figure next to him. His glasses were placed gently on his face and Professor McGonagall came into view.

"Madam Pomfrey is checking on other students right now. She left me with a few potions that you need to drink. Here." Professor McGonagall helped him drink several potions, lifting the vials up to his mouth as his joints needed to rest.

"While we wait for your breakfast to be brought up, I'd like to have a word with you, Harry." Professor McGonagall stated, her voice dangerously calm and her lips thin, sharp lines.

Harry gulped and looked down at his sheets, waiting for the explosion.

"What were you thinking?" Harry winced as McGonagall's voice raised and her voice became shrill. "How you survived against a mountain troll I'll never know! You could have died! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Hermione was in the bathroom and she hadn't been told about the troll - we had to help her." Harry mumbled, scrunching the soft sheets in his fists.

"Why didn't you tell a teacher?"

Harry looked up sharply and opened his mouth before closing it again. Why hadn't they told a teacher? "I-I didn't think."

"Clearly." McGonagall replied sharply. "We would have been able to get to Miss Granger and stop the troll _without_ being injured."

Harry nodded gently and bit his bottom lip. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted although, obviously, you still have your punishment." McGonagall paused, fishing a piece of paper out of her pocket. "You'll be serving detention with me as will Mr Weasley. You need to learn that us teachers are responsible for your safety and to respond to our directions."

Harry nodded as Madam Pomfrey came up to Harry's bed with a bowl of porridge. McGonagall stood up and smoothed down her robes. "I'll leave you in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey now, Harry." She strode out of the hospital wing, leaving Harry with an angry looking matron.

"What you did was completely irresponsible. I'm in half the mind to ban you from playing Quidditch."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Please, I'm sorry! I won't do it again, I promise."

"Hm, well I do believe you are already being punished so I will let you off on this occasion. Now eat, after you've eaten I want to heal your joints some more before you have another nap."

Harry didn't dare argue about the nap. He spooned porridge into his mouth, not wanting to test the matron's patience anymore.

Harry had to endure another lecture from Professor Dumbledore before he'd finished breakfast. Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal his joints more and had given him potions to help with sprains and swelling. She'd determined that he needed to stay another night and Harry didn't complain even though he felt as though he'd been completely healed - he knew that he was treading on thin ice.

While he was relieved to have been released from the hospital wing, he was also overwhelmed and slightly panicked by the amount of work he had to do. Not only did he have homework to catch up on, but he also had classwork to catch up on along with current homework assignments to complete. It left him exhausted and he'd woken up a few times slumped over a desk, his head resting on a pillow and a soft blanket around his shoulders, having no recollection of falling asleep.

However, he did have one saving grace: Quidditch.

He found that he adored flying. He felt completely free when he was flying, as though he was completely limitless. The way that the wind whipped through his hair left him feeling invigorated and he adored being able to swoop and dive, feeling as though gravity had no hold on him. He also enjoyed the feeling of the supportus spell. It supported his joints and not only reduced Harry's pain levels but actually made it less likely that his joints would dislocate. Harry had asked if he could have the spell on him permanently, but Madam Pomfrey had stated that when used long-term the spell had some very nasty side effects. While that had been a blow to hear, he realised that he should be grateful that he could be helped by this spell and have it on him temporarily.

With Harry being so busy time seemed to go alarmingly fast and soon the day of the first Quidditch match had arrived. Harry sat at the Gryffindor table and played with his food, feeling as though he had several bludgers flying around his stomach.

"Come on Harry, you need to eat." Hermione pestered, a worried expression on her face.

"I can't." Harry replied, putting his fork down with a clang.

"You have to eat something!" Ron added, looking confused that anyone could be so nervous that they lost their appetite.

Harry, who was sure that Ron and Hermione would have carried on pestering him, was saved by Wood ordering the team down to the changing rooms. He stood, taking time to relish the feeling of being able to stand without pain, and quickly followed the team out of the castle and towards the Quidditch pitch. It was a clear day, the sky had very little cloud cover. So little that rain was unlikely, but just enough that you'd easily be able to see the snitch.

He sat down on the wooden benches in the changing room and halfheartedly listened to Oliver's speech. Harry didn't think he'd ever felt so nervous in his life, and that was saying something considering the amount of operations he'd had to have due to his various conditions and the times he'd done accidental magic. That bending needle really had been something.

He was brought out of his musing by a nudge in his side he blinked and found that the whole team were looking at him expectantly. "Erm, sorry I wasn't listening."

"Are you okay?" Angelina asked, looking concerned. The girls on the team had become quite protective over Harry.

"Yes, I'm just nervous." Harry replied, squirming a bit.

"Do you remember our plan?" Wood cut in.

"Yes, stay above the match to look at the snitch. I've got it."

"Okay team, it's time."

They rose as one and exited the changing rooms to cheers from the students in the stands. The butterflies in Harry's stomach intensified. He swallowed thickly, praying that he wouldn't throw up. Oliver and the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, shook hands and Harry winced in sympathy as he saw Flint squeeze Oliver's hand tightly.

"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch called. "Three, two, one." She blew her whistle and threw the quaffle up into the air.

Harry kicked off hard and rose into the air and a feeling of complete and utter freedom washed over him. He could do this. He rose quickly so that he was above the match and started to scan the pitch, looking for any little glint of gold. He let the commentary wash over him as he scanned the pitch.

"Johnson has the quaffle." Lee Jordan's voice rang out. "She passes it to bell who passes it to Spinnet she throws the quaffle and GOAL. Ten-nil to Gryffindor!"

Harry pumped his fist into the air, only just managing to duck an oncoming bludger. Fred grinned at him as he rushed over and sent the bludger barreling towards the Syltherin seeker. Harry started scanning the pitch again, listening as Gryffindors scored goal after goal, although, admittedly, Slytherin did manage to score a few.

Harry caught a flash of gold by the Slytherin posts - he'd seen the snitch. He angled the tip of the broom down and shot forwards.

"Potter's seen the snitch! He's closing and and FOUL! YOU GREAT BIT THIEVING SCUM-"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Harry had had to swerve suddenly as a player on the Slytherin team, Harry hadn't been able to see who, had purposefully gotten in his way. He let out a string of curse words, which he'd undoubtedly picked up from Ron, and flew back to his original position over the match. Harry started to fly back and forth when his broomstick suddenly gave a jerk. Harry gripped the handle tightly, his knuckles turning white.

This could not be happening.

Harry tried to call for timeout but the broom bucked again and Harry found himself unable to take his arms off of the broom as he lost complete control of it. The broom bucked and swerved and soon the whole stadium had noticed his predicament. Fred and George immediately dropped their bats and tried to pull Harry onto one of their brooms but whenever they neared Harry's broom flew higher and so they gave up, circling below Harry so that if he fell they'd be able to catch him.

Harry's broom gave an almighty jolt and he swung off it, not only holding on with his hands. He could hear several people scream an Harry clenched his teeth as he felt his shoulders protest. He wasn't sure if he was strong enough to swing himself back on even if the broom would allow him to do so, as it still continued to throw him off. Then, as though a switch had been flicked, the broom stopped bucking and swerving.

Harry's muscles strained and he let out a little scream as he pulled himself back onto his broom. He pointed his broom downwards and gasped in breaths as he dived to the ground. Suddenly his mouth was filled with something and he gagged as he hit the ground, his knees giving away and a small, metal something landed in his hands.

The snitch.

Harry blinked and then curled his fingers around the snitch and held it into the air. "I've got it! I've caught the snitch."

In the whirlwind that occurred after the match ended, Harry felt as though he'd blinked and appeared in Hagrid's hut with a cup of tea in his hand.

"It was Snape." Ron burst out.

Harry blinked. "What?"

"Snape, he jinxed your broom! Hermione saw him muttering in Hagrid's binoculars and he was staring right at your broom, not blinking. She set his robes on fire and he stopped looking at you - that's when your broom stopped bucking."

"Snape? Snape wouldn' do tha'. He's a teacher. Yer be'er no' go 'round blamin' 'im for tha'." Hagrid replied, sitting down in his large chair.

"But Hagrid, I _saw_ him. I know what a jinx looks like, I've read all about them. You have to keep eye contact and Snape wasn't blinking."

"But, if he wanted to kill me, why did he help me when I had my seizure?" Harry interjected, furrowing his brows in thought.

Ron shrugged. "Too many witnesses."

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" Hagrid replied, flustered. "I don' know why yer broom acted like tha', 'arry, but Snape wouldn' want to kill a student."

"But he knows that I Harry heard him talking to Filch about trying to get past Fluffy." Hermione interrupted. "Harry heard him when he tried to get his book back and-"

"And nothin' - yer meddlin' in things that yer not meant to know abou'. It's dangerous. Yer best forgettin' abou' that dog and what it's guardin', that's between Professor McGonagall an' Nicolas Flamel."

Something in Harry's face must have given his excitement away as Hagrid raised a hand to his face and rubbed it wearily.

"I shouldn' 'ave told yer that."

 **A/N I'm sorry for such a long absence! I've been extremely busy with university and my health hasn't been great. Then my aunt was diagnosed with terminal cancer and it's been a whirlwind since then.**

 **Don't expect regular updates, however a lot of my lecturers are going on strike so I'm going to have more time than usual to write. So you might get a few more update from me.**


End file.
